Monstrum Cruorsis Evangelion
by DaAlCh
Summary: An angel appears off the coast of the Half Continent. NERV discovers the existence of multiple realities. Rossamund goes on a journey to discover the true nature of the mannikins and all of monster-kind. Shinji Ikari and EVA-01 lead the way in stopping the Angel's new strategy. A crossover between Evangelion and Monster Blood Tattoo.


**1**

**Angel Attack**

**Angel** (noun) also seraph. Heavenly creatures, generally considered to be immortal, that were once worshiped by nomads of the Grassmeer, and later by the original inhabitants of the Soutlands before the Tutins came and squashed such beliefs. According to legend an angel was the soul and milt of an everyman freed from the body (e.g. after an everyman died) that traveled into the sky. There, the angel would join with the others already freed and form a single soul, without distinction and without boundaries.

The proud frigate _Surprise_ had served the Empire for over one hundred years. In that time it had fought both pirate and nadderer. It had survived the Battle of the Mole. Under the power of its gastrines it had traversed the vinegar seas to Hiel and the Derelands and back to the Half-Continent, bringing back gold, goods and glory.

Now the _Surprise_ was anchored by a nameless atoll so small and so low it was swallowed by the seas when the tide came in. So it had been for a week. Boredom ran rampant throughout the crew, more infectious than any sickness. Snarl, who had been a member of the crew for just over two years, leaned against one of the ship's cannons and stared numbly at the rest of the crew. Half of them were as bored as he was. The other half were worse. Only the officers made an attempt to keep the men on-task and at attention over the past week. Now however, there were no tasks to be done, so even the officers seemed to have caught the pervasive illness called boredom. No gold, no goods, and no glory would be found on this voyage.

Snarl sighed and looked out over the red sea. Rumor had it that the habilists onboard had chartered the _Surprise_ to come to this atoll because the seas around it were red. Snarl had no idea why anyone would care what color the vinegar waves were. Snarl had seen white seas, black seas, green seas, blue seas, and all manner of colored-seas. It did not matter to him if a particular patch of the sea was red or not.

At that moment Joquin, a fellow sailor who was Snarl's age and standing by the rail not five feet away, said what was being thought by all. "Why do you think those habilists _care_ about the coloring of the seas here?"

"Because habilists care about things no one else does," said Giddian. Giddian had served aboard the _Surprise_ near as long as Snarl, and both were quick to become best friends.

Snarl chortled. "That's true."

"Well, some habilists become physicians, and we all need those, don't we?" Joquin said, trying to be the voice of reason. Joquin reminded Snarl of a boy he once knew back at Madam Opera's Marine Society. That boy was smaller and more bookish than Joquin and twice as unlikable and fun to mock. Perhaps it was because said boy had a girl's name. It was when Joquin said things like this when Snarl was reminded too much of the boy, and in turn, too much of the foundlingry.

"People who have more than a sou need physicians," said Giddian. "The rest of us have to make do without the fine skills and bills the physicians have learned and earned."

"Actually, I know a fine physician in Brandenbrass who offers their services for only five sequins a visit," said a soft voice behind the three young salts.

The three boys turned. Standing not twenty feet away was one of the habilists from Brandenbrass themselves. Snarl had heard his name was Wrenthorst. The professorum was a tall man somewhere between thirty and forty who wore a powdered wig beneath his tricorne hat. The habilist wore a heavy maincoat, as did the all the crew did when they were out at sea. The maincoats were proofed and good for keeping the salt away from the skin. However, the habilist's maincoat was of a finer cut and a lighter colored thread than any sailor's. Even the officers on deck looked rustic compared to this fellow.

Giddian raised an eyebrow. "Well we're not docked in Brandenbrass very often now, are we?"

Wrenthorst gave a single nod and walked took two steps toward them, hands clasped behind his back. He looked out over the boys and towards the red sea beyond. "True," the professorum said, "it would not be wise for this _particular _ship to go near Brandenbrass now would it?"

Snarl glowered. He may have been a foundling boy, but he was a Boschenberg boy all the same.

"Peace. I mean no ill will," said Wrenthorst, raising an open palm. "Truth be told we have commissioned this ship to sail to this little spit of land because we believe the seas around this atoll are actually lordia crurorsis lacquer, or LCL for short."

Joquin looked interested. "LCL?"

Giddian crossed his arms. "And that is…?"

"I am sure you know how acrid our oceans are," Wrenthorst explained, "as I am sure you are aware of how many colors comprise our oceans. The reason for this coloring is because there are many different acids within the waters of the seas. The combination of these acids, or the presence or absence of a particular acid, causes the coloration of different regions of the ocean. These regions of the oceans are dependent on the currents, and invariably change with the seasons. However, a few of us at the University of Brandenbrass noticed that a particular spot of ocean never altered its coloration in the slightest."

"How?" Snarl was interested, despite himself.

"We began to collect different reports from vinegaroons from all over Harthe Alle several years back to try to get a sense of the ultimate pattern of the ocean's composition. Over close to a decade we had a clear sense of how the acids in each sea worked. Yet one region of the Mare Infernum in particular was always reported to have a red coloring. Always. Even the greatest oceans change their coloration slightly, yet not this one little spot. We felt it necessary to investigate the reason.

"Oh, and by the way, it is not only habilists who care about matters such as this, but elephantines who want to expand their fortunes and open-minded peers who desire to know more also care enough about the habilistics to fund these expeditions," said Wrenthorst with a knowing smile.

Giddian blanched.

"In this case," said Wrenthorst, "we even got the military of Boschenberg interested in our little project. That is where you and this magnificent ship come in. Do not worry about being anchored at port for very much longer. We only have to do a few more tests." Wrenthorst pointed. "See them on the atoll?"

Snarl did see. In the distance half a dozen professorum stood on the brown, waterlogged, and entirely dead patch of land that barely rose over the surface of the red waves around it. One held a long, tall, and thin piece of equipment that looked vaguely like an crux naut. Three of the professorum were kneeling down and examining something on the atoll Snarl couldn't see.

Wrenthorst continued. "So far we have discovered that lordia crurorsis lacquer has incredible properties. Unlike any other type of ocean water, it will not burn your skin and eat away at your body."

All three boys looked skeptically at the professorum, who did nothing but continued to talk about LCL's wonderful properties.

"We also discovered that it will actually provide aeris regia for your lungs, a feat no substance or potive is capable of."

Joquin looked confused. "Aeris regia?"

"The part of the air you breathe," said Wrenthorst.

Joquin still looked confused. "You only breathe _part_ of the air?"

There was no time for further explanation. Suddenly a great noise louder than any cannon shot ripped through the whole of the air.

The _Surprise _lurched mightily. The entire atoll vanished. A pillar of red water took its place. The _Surprise_ rocked onto its port side, while the anchor did its best to keep the ship in place. The tilt of the deck became steeper and steeper. Several sailors, caught unaware from the blast slid towards the rail. Snarl braced himself against the cannon. Giddian grabbed the rail, as did Wrenthorst and Joquin. After a horrible moment when Snarl thought the ship would capsize, the _Surprise_ rocked back and righted itself.

Snarl stumbled; falling to the still-heaving deck. When he regained his footing he saw what had replaced the atoll's place. His jaw dropped.

Where there had once been land there was a creature.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of feet tall it was. Vaguely spider-shaped; four black legs rose from the ocean before bending sharply and headed down to the creature's body, which was looked like half of a ball. Only this half of the 'ball' in question was at least one hundred yards across, and covered in all manner of eyes. It loomed over the _Surprise_.

All around him sailors and officers were shouting. Some were running. Snarl just gaped at the monster before them. This was no mere nadderer. This had to be a false-god from one of the legends of old! What else could it be?

Wrenthorst gasped, still clutching the railing. "An… an angel!"

Snarl looked sharply at the professorum. _There was more to this expedition than he was telling_.

For several long moments the angel remained still, its eyes trained every which way. Snarl heard the first mate for every man to prepare the cannons. Then, as abruptly as it appeared, the eye of the angel nearest to the _Surprise_ flashed. The water around the ship exploded. The last sensation Snarl ever knew was that he was falling upward.

Many miles away, a boy with a girl's name fell to his knees. He clutched his chest like a fire was burning him up inside. The boy gasped. It had happened. It was time. He had felt it.

Only Rossamund had no idea what _it_ was.


End file.
